And Then
by Rapunzzle
Summary: Sequel to Finally. The angst continues. HouseCam. Please read Author's Notes. Follows season finale: what happens between House, Stacy, Cameron, and Wilson? Chp. 3 up.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own House M.D.-- dammit!

**A/N:** Well, this is the first time I've done _this_. :) I'm glad those of you who read and/or commented enjoyed _Finally_ so much. I really had a good time writing it and am very happy with the direction it took. I was initially going to make this second part flow directly from _Finally_ but, here it is-- the sequel. Thank you to those who told me to do it, and thank you so much to everyone for the kind comments and reviews! I love to hear that you like what I'm writing. I begin here with the final scene from _Finally_, just in case- if anyone has recently read _Finally_, of course, feel free to skip over this scene :)  
I feel I should clarify so that all of you can get as much out of this as I am-- I have no intention of putting Cam with anyone-- not Foreman, not Chase, and not even Wilson. I have included these three men (and any others) merely as devices to both demonstrate Cameron's character through her intereactions with fellow colleagues, etc., and to display Houses' jealous nature, even during everyday matters-- for example, the 'massage' scene with Foreman/Cameron in _Finally_. There, with that said, hopefully all will now see the angst I'm attempting to convey when House is jealous over absolutely-- and literally-- nothing. :)  
**ACMD-** Love your reviews, as always! Re: Wilson-- 'What are my intentions?' Well, basically as above, I'm using him as a tool to facilitate Houses' rage. True, he is clearly a ladies man, but a ladies man with a heart of gold. Everything I have him do-- just as pretty much everything I've seen him do on _House_ is genuine. For example: the lunch scene with Cameron is intended to be exactly that-- lunch with a colleague. The amusing bit is that House knows what kind of man James Wilson is, and also that Wilson is his best friend, so the angst over 'is he or isn't he' is even greater!  
Wow, that was long, eh? I hope you like it! I'll try and update as often as possible. :)  
'punzzle

* * *

_From "Finally":_

Cameron yawned and leaned back in her chair reaching her long arms above her head to stretch her stiff back. She glanced at her watch and gasped softly—6:44. She had stayed _much_ longer than she'd intended.

Cameron shuffled the stack of paper before her into a neat pile and rose from the desk. Striding to her closet she retrieved her satchel and suit jacket. Despite the later hour, she doubted the summer heat had dissipated all that much so she merely draped the Chanel coat over her arm. As she turned to exit the conference room she was shocked to see Houses' lamp on, its' light drawing her like a moth towards his adjoining office. He was seated at his desk—looking very much the same way he had that morning. Cameron bit her full bottom lip and shook her head—she was best-served _not_ interfering anymore. She drifted towards the conference room door and paused, her palm pressed against the cool glass. She sighed wearily and shook her head—"You'll _never_ learn, Allison" she muttered, turning and entering his office instead.

The room was silent. The uncharacteristic lack of music gave Cameron to worry over his well-being all over again. She stood just inside the door waiting for some reaction—there was none. Houses' gaze lingered on something outside his office window. Cameron hesitated—"Rain?" she questioned softly.

House turned slowly to regard her, his eyes sweeping over her soft features.  
"No…" he said at last. Cameron's brow twitched upwards in response.  
"It's beautiful actually."  
His voice was low and thick, as if he had been dragged from a dream. Cameron smiled softly.  
"Summer" she said simply with a vague shrug.

House nodded, blinking his expressive eyes. He cleared his throat and swiveled his chair around to face his desk.

"You're in late" Cameron mused, taking a step towards him.

House looked up at her briefly before dropping his eyes to the desk top. He shuffled a few loose pages and cleared his throat again.  
"Busy, busy, busy" he quipped.

Cameron nodded slightly—"Well, goodnight." She turned towards his office door.

"How are you feeling?" His question surprised her and she turned back to face him, blinking.  
"Um… fine" she said in confusion.

House leaned back in his chair to regard her and fixed his now composed gaze on hers. His brow twitched upwards in what Cameron thought might be disbelief or irritation.  
"Rumor had it you weren't feeling well today" he said, an icy glint to his otherwise mellow tone.

Cameron laughed lightly, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of her lips.  
"_Oh_… I had a bit of a headache—I'm fine" she smiled.

Houses' gaze fell on her smile and lingered a moment—_how could any woman have so pleasant a mouth?_ He nodded, shaking himself out of his musings.

"Good." He leaned forward and returned his attention to the nondescript papers before him.

"What about you?" Cameron's voice was hushed and wary.

House looked up to see that the smile was gone—the distant glimmer of concern he thought he'd seen that morning was back and it made his stomach lurch in protest.  
"There are rumors about _me_?" he quipped, falling back on his wry humor.  
Cameron laughed softly and House felt his chest constrict slightly as that meek smile returned.

"Oh—_so_ many it's impossible to keep track" she teased back.  
House smirked at this—she could play his game if she wanted too, and he couldn't help but be vaguely impressed.

Cameron hesitated, her soulful eyes resting on his.  
"Is everything alright?" she asked at last.

House had an uncanny way of burying his emotions—where any other person would falter and make their feelings known, House was so practiced that his expression remained unchanged. His eyes flickered over hers briefly before he looked away.  
"_Everything_ is pretty broad, don't you think?" he scoffed.

Cameron stood patiently, knowing full well the words forming on her tongue would go to waste—"It's just that you were in early, and you're still here, and we don't have a case—it's just a little… _odd_" she fumbled.

House shrugged a shoulder—"Odd works for me" he said simply.  
"I like to keep you guys on your toes—next week, I might not come in at all!"

Cameron closed her eyes briefly—she exhaled slowly and fluttered her lashes open to find him studying her face from his seat across the room. She met his gaze and held it—"I'll see you tomorrow" she said softly before turning and exiting the silent office. House knit his brow and followed her retreating body with his eyes.

* * *

_"And Then"..._

Allison Cameron drifted through the glass doors of the conference room. She dropped her bag into an empty chair and removed her dark denim jacket in one fluid motion. Opening her closet, she withdrew her lab coat and hung the 'civilian wear' on the exposed hook. Closing the cabinet door, Cameron tossed the lab coat onto her chair across the room and turned her attentions to the coffee machine. Moments later, the soft, burbling sound of perking coffee met her ears.

Cameron turned and gazed out the wide expanse of window, down into the parking lot. Moving towards the glass she slid the latch over and pushed the window open. It was still early—not quite 7:45—and the sky was painted a warm, golden morning hue. Rose hints dusted the edges of the horizon as the sun quickly completed its ascent.

Cameron closed her eyes and reveled in the fresh morning breeze as it played across her bare shoulders, permeating the thin, woolen fabric of her sleeveless sweater: early August in Jersey, and it would undoubtedly be a hot one. The coffee machine gurgled loudly, announcing its' completion, summoning Cameron with a hiss of vapor. She dragged herself reluctantly from the still-open window and poured a steaming cup.

* * *

By the time Foreman and Chase entered 15 minutes later, Cameron was seated comfortably at the conference room table, mug in hand. She raised her ivy eyes from the pages of Diana Gabaldon as the sound of Chases' Aussie drawl shattered the solitude of the room. 

"All I'm saying is—if she _wasn't_ interested, she shouldn't have been wearing _that_".

Her colleagues entered the room, dropping articles of clothing and various bits of effluvia at the table. Foreman shrugged out of his jacket and hung it in his closet. He retrieved his lab coat and turned to face Chase as he slid one arm into the white coat; he rolled his dark eyes—"I _want_ to say I'm disgusted to hear you say something so repulsive and blatantly sexist but, this is _you_ we're talking about".

Foreman's face brightened as he acknowledged Cameron—"Hey—coffee smells great" he smiled.  
Cameron smiled warmly in return and closed her book before depositing it into her bag. Chase stood to her right and scoffed loudly, still looking at Foreman. Cameron lifted a perfectly-sculpted brow in his direction and pursed her lips, fighting back an amused smirk—his ignorance was astonishing at times.

Chase shrugged off Foreman's cool response and dropped into the chair beside Cameron—"Any word on our case today?" he asked, turning in his seat to face her.

Cameron knit her brow faintly—_"yes—they called me a t six to confirm"_ she thought dully.  
"Um—no, not yet" she said dryly, taking a sip of her coffee.

Foreman joined them, seating himself across the table. He sipped his coffee, enjoying the rich, dark flavor. He looked up at Cameron, eyes seeking hers. He arched a brow in silent question and she smiled and nodded her answer. His face cleared with relief and he took another sip of coffee. Chase knit his brow, eyes flitting between his colleagues. He frowned at Foreman across the table, looking remarkably like a petulant child.

"What the hell was _that_?" he demanded sharply.

Foreman raised his brow, feigning ignorance—"What?"

Chase glanced at Cameron, who buried her grin in her own coffee cup, and his frown deepened. He swiveled on Foreman again—"You know bloody what I mean" he snapped.  
Foreman pursed his lips and shrugged helplessly. Chase appeared flabbergasted—his mouth opened and closed as he looked between Cameron and Foreman, convinced they were systematically shutting him out. He huffed a loud breath of air and sat back heavily in his seat.

"Aw—poor baby" Houses' voice sliced through the sudden silence as he strode into the conference room. He stopped in the center of the room and leaned forward across the table towards Chase—"What's the matter—somebody run over your puppy?"

Chase frowned at his employer and remained silent. House turned towards the blank white-board and spoke—"So—we assume this kidney case is coming in _sometime_ this afternoon. Until then, I'll be in _Port Charles_". He turned and entered his office, dropping heavily into the desk chair. He flipped through his iPod before settling on _Frou Frou_'s 'Let Go'.

Foreman laughed, eyeing Chase across the table. Chase furrowed his brow and pushed himself upwards—"So what if I'm his favorite target?—I still have my _job_" he grumbled, exiting the conference room. Foreman laughed and rose to deposit his cup into the sink.

"So, you're feeling better then?" he turned to ask Cameron.  
She smiled and sipped her own coffee—"I am, thanks—nothing like a nice hot bath to ease you".

Foreman smiled and nodded—"Good". He gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze as he passed—"I'll see you later"—and was gone. She smiled after him and finished her own coffee.

* * *

Cameron eased her way into Houses' office, pushing her back against the door—both hands full— all the while managing to enter with a careless grace that made him cease his pen-twirling to observe closely. She looked surprisingly at ease, compared to her flushed and almost agitated state yesterday. "Maybe Wilson _did_ take her for that beer" he thought bitterly. 

Cameron turned to him, coffee in one hand, and an imposing-looking collection of mail in the other. She smiled gently, her delicate mouth dipping upwards into a faint blossom of pleasure—"I love this song" she breathed softly.

House quickly silenced _Rachel Yamagata_'s crooning 'I'll Find A Way' as Cameron set the coffee down on his desk and perched herself on the edge of the seat opposite him. House picked up the cup and cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair, attempting to affect an air of indifference.

Cameron set a stack of e-mails down before him: "You're going to say no" she began.

"Then why are you bothering?" he pestered, taking a sip of his coffee.

She paused for breath and continued, undaunted—"but the top one looked interesting so I thought I'd show it to you" she finished, gesturing to a printed invitation to a future conference on 'The Technological Future and Advancement of Diagnostic Medicine'.

House scoffed—"You know how I feel about _technology_—_The Matrix_ scared the hell out of me".

Cameron pursed her lips, fighting a smile, and shrugged casually—"There's an open bar" she teased, "really it was _that_ I thought might interest you".

House raised a brow—a smirk tugging at his handsome mouth. Dammit! Why did she keep doing that? Despite his best efforts, Cameron continued to surprise and, at times, impress him, and he couldn't risk letting her discover this fact. She looked up at him and cleared her throat softly before continuing awkwardly.

"Um—you have a teaching request…" she looked up through her lashes as House rolled his eyes back and stuck his tongue out, gagging loudly.

Cameron inhaled and tossed the envelope into the nearby trash can.

"Robertson from NYU sent some…" she paused, "um… _fan mail_".  
House released a single, explosive laugh and leaned across the desk to snatch the folded paper from her slim hand.

"Fan_tastic_!" he cheered, "I _love_ these".

Cameron resisted the urge to roll her eyes and continued on.  
"Michaels—also at NYU—wants a consult" she dropped the envelope onto his cluttered desk, "and I think you're being sued by a Mr. _Raithe_?" She looked up to see him scanning the letter from Robertson, an amused expression on his gruff features.

"_I'm_ the disgrace" he said wryly—"yet _you_ can't even come up with a convincing metaphor!" he scoffed at the letter in his hand.

House tossed the paper down and reached for the legal envelope as Cameron stood.  
"Sued? A_gain_?" he whined.

Cameron crossed her arms over her stomach and watched him. House shrugged and tossed the pending legal action aside, returning his attention to the less than glowing correspondence from NYU's Dr. Roberts. He waved the paper about—"I should really get a scrap book for these" he toyed.

Cameron arched a brow—the left corner of her mouth quirked upwards in an amused manner. House looked up and collided with her clover eyes. He blinked and dropped the paper back onto his desk. Cameron physically felt the sudden shift in energy and schooled her face to a convincingly blank masque.

"I'll let you know when I hear on the Jenkins case" she said, dropping her arms and turning towards the conference room door.

House knit his brow—"Jenkins?" he questioned.

Cameron pulled the glass door open, pausing at the threshold to turn toward him—"the kidney referral from yesterday" she explained.

House nodded emphatically—"Oh—yeah, yeah" he waved her off and turned to his iPod, flooding the room with U2 as the doorway closed silently behind Cameron.

* * *

**A/N:** Just a few notes, just in case:  
_- Port Charles_ is the city/town that _General Hospital_ takes place in.  
- I have _no_ idea if there is a hospital at NYU --there likely is-- but this is a fiction and if FOX can creat Princeton Plainsborough Teaching Hospital in New Jersey, I can create an NYU Hospital.  
- _Frou Frou_ and _Rachel Yamagata_ seemed like House-like, melancholicchoices to me. The later song may come up later in more detail (I'm currently debating between two songs to use in a later scene) but check them out :)  
- Diana Gabaldon is my favorite author. She writes the _Outlander_ series which is, as was once described to me very aptly, "food for the book lovers soul". She is an outstanding writer and her beautiful grasp of diction and rhetoric has influenced my own works. She seemed like an author Cameron _might_ read. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own House M.D.- still.

**A/N:** Aagh! I'm sorry for this taking so long- I've had a migraine for the past three weeks straight, so not much writing or computer-work for me lately. I'm trying to get the rest of this out, but it will be slower-ish process: I have to write a 15 page manuscript for my Masters application and study for my LSAT which I write October 1st! But, I hope you enjoy. :)

* * *

House raised a brow and turned his head slowly as the door closed behind Cameron. His forehead wrinkled in a frown as he forced his eyes—and thoughts—away from Allison Cameron. He lifted the edge of one of numerous documents on his desk and eyed it warily. House exhaled loudly and craned his neck in an attempt to peer into the adjoining conference room. He exhaled again and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes as "Sunday, Bloody Sunday" swept over him. 

After a moment, Houses' sharp blue eyes flew open and he leaned forward, grasping his cane. He opened a desk drawer and shuffled through the loose contents until he found the bright green tennis ball. He stood and hobbled slowly towards the center of his office, bouncing the ball as he went. He turned, catching the toy deftly as he lifted his eyes upward to find Cameron in the next room. She was seated at the conference table with her back to him, no doubt reading over Mrs. Jenkins' case file yet again. What had he said to Wilson once about grabbing her ass?

House shook his head, tearing his gaze from Cameron. He turned, bouncing the ball again, and noticed that U2 had faded into the soft crooning of Anna Nalick:

_So you're takin' these pills for to fill up your soul,  
And you're drinkin' 'em down with cheap alcohol,  
And I'd be inclined to be yours for the taking…_

House rolled his eyes at the lyrics and turned again and fixed his eyes unconsciously on the young woman in the adjoining room. What was he doing? Better question—what was _she_ doing? Why was she here? She never should have come back—he never should have asked—begged, rather—for her to come back to him. He would only make her miserable—it was inevitable. _My God though_, he thought, _she is beautiful…_ House hadn't lied the day she challenged him—he _had_ hired her largely for her aesthetic quality—she was a work of art. The most irritatingly appealing thing was: it was as if she didn't even try. Her perfectly-fitted black sweater hugged her modest curves in such an alluring way. _I like her hair like that_ he mused silently, _free and loose down her shoulders…_

House bounced the ball blindly off the toe of his shoe causing it to roll under his desk and out of reach. He blinked, the motion of the wayward ball drawing his attention from Cameron's still form. He moved a step towards the desk, a deep growl of annoyance rumbling softly in his throat. He frowned at the ball as it lay trapped under his desk against the far wall—"Damn" he grumbled.

House bent over and shut the music off irritably and leaned against the desk. Suddenly, he felt very trapped—caged and restless. He briefly contemplated harassing Wilson, but decided against it. He picked up his half empty coffee cup and swallowed the last of the tepid contents before pushing himself upward off the desk. He hobbled, cup in hand, toward the conference room—he needed more coffee, that's all.

When House raised his eyes from the floor he was surprised to find the room empty: Cameron, and her paperwork, was gone, leaving nothing behind but the tantalizing aroma of brewed coffee. House strode to the sink and deposited his empty cup into the basin. Exhaling slowly, he turned and left the conference room, intent upon a coffee and donut in the cafeteria.

As he rounded a corner, House stopped short and fought the urge to disappear into the nearest doorway—Wilson. He was leaning against the nurses' station a few feet away brandishing that ri_diculous_ 'I'm so dashing and boyishly innocent' smile in conversation with Cameron. House set his jaw and approached them. Wilson looked up to see House coming and his smile faltered for the briefest instant.  
"There you are—I was just on my way to see you" Wilson greeted.

Cameron turned to regard her boss with a soft smile. House raised a brow at Wilson without acknowledging Cameron—"were you?" he questioned as he continued past.

Wilson opened his mouth to reply and turned his head to follow Houses' procession down the hall. He turned back to Cameron and chuckled softly. Cameron smiled—"Well, it looks like he's speaking to you after all".  
Wilson raised a brow and looked over his shoulder once more to discover that House was gone.  
"Yeah" he answered wryly.  
"Has he been terrible?" he asked her, concerned that House would choose to freeze out Cameron as well, or worse, bait and attack her.  
Cameron shook her head slowly, dark tresses ruffling over her shoulders—"No. He's been fine" she said with some confusion.  
Wilson laughed—"So it's just _me_ then" he confirmed. "Well that's good" he smiled.  
"I'm glad you're feeling better" he said, pushing himself off the counter, "I'll see you later".  
Cameron nodded and continued her trek to the lab.

* * *

Wilson entered the cafeteria and scanned the sea of people before his eyes settled on Houses' rumpled form. He poured himself a cup of cafeteria-grade coffee and paid, drifting over to the corner table House occupied.  
"Wow—you look _terrible_" Wilson scoffed with a smile, stopping in front of his friend.  
House looked up blankly—"That Mindy—I didn't get any sleep at _all_" he said salaciously.  
Wilson chuckled and sat down slowly—"Well, _that _much is obvious". 

House picked up his cup and drank, averting his gaze from the man in front of him. Wilson raised a brow and observed his friend across the table. House put the cup down suddenly and exhaled dramatically—"Oh, _what_!" he asked at last. Wilson leaned back in his own chair.

"So how long are you going to keep this up, exactly?" he questioned pleasantly.  
House remained expressionless—"Keep _what_ up, exactly?" he asked innocently.

Wilson sighed, fixing House with an unyielding gaze. House rolled his eyes and sipped his coffee; he shrugged. "Dunno—another twenty minutes at _least_".

Wilson raised a brow and drank from his own cup.  
"Twenty minutes you say?" he glanced at his watch, "why that's _just_ enough time for me to ravage Dr. Cameron in the lab one last time" he said dryly.

House met Wilson's teasing with a blank, cold stare. Wilson sighed and put his cup down. He leaned forward slightly across the table and gazed at his old friend.  
"Are we done? Can this end, please?" he asked softly.  
Houses' gaze softened, ever so slightly.

"I still have at least fifteen minutes on the clock" he quipped, sipping his murky beverage. He grimaced at the foul taste and pushed the styrofoam cup aside.  
Wilson chuckled softly and sat back in his chair.

"I'm a patient man".  
"Being married to Julie for the past six years—you'd _have_ to be" House scoffed.  
Wilson laughed and attempted an offended look.  
"That's nice—drag my marriage into this".  
House arched a brow, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth—"_some_body should"—before he bit heartily into a dry, glazed donut.

* * *

**A/N:** I wasn't trying to make this a "song fic", and I feel a little... I dunno, about puttig those lyrics in because it's kind of cheesy, I know. But, they're VERY applicable to the House/Cam 'thing' so, I hope you all approve :) The song is "Catalyst" in case anyone is interested. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine.

**A/N: **Hello again. My apologies for the long update- been busy with work, school stuff, major migranes (going on two and a half months now, hooray) and really, I know how I want this particular fic to end, it's the stuff in between that's giving my some grief. This chapter is short, but, there was only so much I could put into it. Don't worry, the next one should be longer- if not longer, then at least it will be a response to this chapter's lack of angst, which will be House/Cam dialoge (well, that's the working plan, anyway).  
So bear with me, I'll have more up soon. :)

* * *

Cameron adjusted the focus on the microscope and quickly raised her eyes from the lens in response to the sudden loud and rather insistent grumble of her stomach. She chuckled self-consciously into the silence and mentally catalogued her morning: awake at six; hour long run; shower; glass of orange juice and a banana; then work. _Hmm_… Not wanting a repeat of yesterday's migraine, Cameron closed her notebook and pushed away from the counter. She had been in the lab only an hour or so, but…  
Dipping a hand into her pockets she discovered some seven dollars in change so she decided to leave her work for the time being. Cameron draped her lab coat over the metal chair and left the cool, silent laboratory.

* * *

The hospital cafeteria was bustling—a hive of patients, staff, and visitors relishing the brief opportunity to forget the fact that they were in a hospital and simply enjoy each other's company. Cameron smiled slightly at this as she set her tray down on the railing and leaned forward to select a packaged egg salad sandwich from the cooler. She moved slowly along the dining procession, selecting an apple juice and bran muffin, when a voice from behind startled her out of her reverie. 

"So, he let you eat, huh?"

Cameron turned to face Stacey Warner, immaculate in an ivory pantsuit. Cameron blinked, recovering herself, and smiled.  
"Occasionally the spirit moves him to allow us a few, small luxuries—food, water, sleep" she replied.

Stacey laughed softly and set a cranberry muffin on her tray alongside a bottle of water.  
"_Sounds like he's breaking a few child-labor laws"_. Stacey shook this thought firmly from her mind—she had no real reason to dislike Allison Cameron.  
"I'm glad" she said simply.

Cameron moved along the line and reached into her pocket to pay. As Stacey poured herself a cup of coffee nearby, Cameron drew a slow breath. Fumbling with her change, Cameron turned to observe the crowded cafeteria. A man, perhaps forty, sat alone holding a full cup of coffee. He stared into the chattering sea before him and appeared not to register the life moving around him. Cameron knit her white brow slightly in understanding and remembered that not _everyone_ in the hospital cafeteria came to forget.

Stacey paid for her meager meal and approached the young doctor slowly.  
"Everything alright?" she inquired softly.

Cameron looked up swiftly and smiled again: "Crowded" she answered simply, "but I think there's one over here". Cameron tilted her head to the right in illustration. "Won't you join me?"  
The attorney smiled warmly and followed Cameron to the nearby table.

"So, how do you like being back?" Cameron asked, absently tearing a small piece off her muffin.

Stacey unscrewed the lid on her water as she spoke: "It's nice. Good. It's…" she paused, raising the bottle halfway to her mouth. "It's weird" she said with a soft chuckle before brining the bottle to her lips.  
She quirked a brow and shrugged a shoulder at Cameron as she drank. Cameron nodded and took a bite of her sandwich.

"Eight years" Stacey breathed softly, "is… a long time."

A distant smile played at her handsome mouth and Cameron paused in her chewing as she observed the older woman's trip down a long-forgotten memory. She swallowed and sipped her apple juice.  
"It can be" she said at last, eyes lowering to her tray, "but… some things never change".

* * *

House had been sitting alone in the boisterous cafeteria for quite some time. Wilson's pager had long ago sounded, pulling him off into the dramatic and exiting world that was oncology. Brushing the stray icing crumbs form his shirtfront, House rose stiffly from the rickety metal chair and made his way slowly through the writhing masses and froze—Stacey. 

Once again, House mentally kicked himself for agreeing to her employment there.  
"_But if you hadn't, what would that have said about _you_?"_ nagged a small, irritating voice.  
"_Oh would you shut up? I'm miserable enough as it is…" _he answered the voice. House shook the internal conversation from his mind and stepped forward, pausing suddenly when he caught sight of Stacey's companion.  
"Oh what the _hell_?" he grumbled aloud.

Stacey looked up from her tray, her eyes meeting his instantly across the crowded room. House lowered his head, setting his jaw in a firm line, and briskly left the cafeteria.


End file.
